Chapter 56 Fifty Six
OWEN WINTERS
Mornings were usually the same routine for me, clean, cook, work… but today seemed especially different, in a good way.
Amy was somewhere around the house drafting another terrible email (she wouldn't find out how terrible they were from me) to the house of Rodriguez, while I dressed ready for another work. My plan about the ammunition sold to the Russians worked well except they wanted a negotiation this time around.
Father would've gone for the so called negotiation, but he was enjoying his old age in one country I still didn't get the name. I wore a blue Armani suit and stared at my reflection in the mirror for what looked like five minutes. I did my hair in short curls, and bit my lips.
Just as I turned to leave, Amy barged into the room, her face red from fury.
Another rejection. I thought, rubbing my fingers together and waiting for her to lash out, but she didn't. Instead she slumped on the bed and let out an exasperated sigh.
“She rejected it. What the fuck is wrong with her? Or maybe-” she sat up, and glanced at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Maybe the house of Xavier is not well known in Paris. But then again she was a former Xavier,” she pouted.
I chuckled and walked over to her. Holding her chin, I pressed a kiss on her lips. “Don't worry, you should start a plan B since the emails aren't working, and don't forget to not stress yourself. You're pregnant,” I reassured her before kissing her lips again.
“I might come home late, I have this fucked up negotiations with the bratvas…”
“The Russians?” She asked interrupting me, but I didn't mind. “Yes. But I'll be coming with Mr Lyon Gates, the one I'm marrying his daughter.” I shouldn't have said that so bluntly because she became sullen. Probably the realization hit her… the realization I hadn't even thought of.
“Pumpkin…”
“It's fine, it's inevitable anyway,” she replied, and stood to leave.
“Wish me luck before I go, those guys are really something else,” I said making a poor attempt at a cheerful joke, but she laughed anyway.
Amy hugged me, her arm around my neck, she stood on her toes and planted a kiss on my cheeks. “Be safe.” I nodded as she walked out.
I sat lazily on the bed, the thought of my business marriage with the Gates hadn't crossed my mind, I shut my eyes for a while before I opened them. My phone rang reminding me it was time to leave for work.
I sighed — a heavy sigh.
“You could've informed me before doing anything rash, Mr Winters,” Mr Lyon Gates said as we walked side by side, hands in our pockets. The man looked older as wrinkles decorated his forehead, he had bags under his eyes coupled with dark circles.
“I apologize for causing you much worry, Mr Gates, but I am the heir to the house of the Winters and I thought about my decision before acting on it, so, I'm not sorry about my so called rash decisions, but I apologize for not informing you about it,” I replied, my face stoney as we suddenly stopped walking.
The old man shrugged, hands out of his pockets. “The Russians like making an entrance, so you'll have to be patient,” he informed me and I rolled my eyes.
Suddenly, a trail of cars came lined up in a square form as though the president were making an entrance.
He must be the one at the front.
I thought hissing with disgust, but my face was straight. Nothing was far worse than a bad negotiation or impression with the Russians.
Just then, the red car in the third line of cars opened the butterfly door.
It was the only red one amongst black ones so it was probably the boss who sat in it.
“So much for a magnificent entrance,” I scoffed, my patience wearing out.
A pair of heels landed on the ground as the boss appeared.
A lady?
Her hair was blonde, and her face, the smoothness of ivory. Her well adorned neck told her off, and her steps were… infuriating!
Why the fuck did the wind decide to come now?
“I must have kept you waiting, no?” She said, batting her lashes. I smirked in annoyance, but still kept that straight face.
“It's fine…”
“My lady. Call me my lady, I feel like I'll like it with your deep voice,” she answered winking at me.
Was she flirting with me?
I grinned, this time it was evident. “I'm Owen Winters and since we're being informal here call me Owen, or anything you like.” This was going well and I hoped it'd last longer.
“I'll call you caramel, it's sweet and I guess you are too…”
No, she wasn't flirting with me. She was dangerous.
I cleared my throat and focused on the reason we came here to discuss the negotiation. “We refused to sell you that much ammunition, and that created a lot of fuzz, but we decided to propose something more, Mr Gates would brief you on that,” I said and glanced at him from the side, so he could speak.
The lady glared intensely at me, then laughed. “I want you to speak, your voice does a lot of things to me, so-” she backflipped and stopped in front of me, our faces touching. She pressed a gun at my temple.
Be calm.
“I want you to speak sweet nothings to me till you drop dead and in your own pool of blood,” she threatened, her voice still playful as ever.
“I'm not completely ending our trade since we are useful to each other. I'll only give you more ammunition if first, you increase the money and second, you stop harassing my men at the casino in Russia,” I said. She pressed the gun harder into my head until the gun created an injury and a drop of blood slid down to my neck.
“Don't act rashly, this injury can cause a serious war between us and well let's say there won't be any losers. If that's what you want, then shoot,” it was my turn to threaten, but my tone sounded a lot more serious in contrast to hers.
She dropped her hands to the side and gazed into my eyes.
“You're so sweet, Owen, we have a lot to gain working together,” she said and kissed my cheeks.
Only Amy can do that!
But I did nothing.
“I should agree to your proposal, but I want something else apart from the ammunition since we're increasing the price.”
“What do you want?” I asked eager to know.
She smiled brightly, “let's have a drink or two together! I just turned eighteen today and I'll love Paris food,” she screamed cheerfully and yes, there were no doubts that she was a kid — a dangerous kid.
Why did she come instead of her father?
I asked myself, but it seemed easier with her spearheading the whole transaction.
“Sure, but you have to tell me your name first.”
“Oh it's Ana-sta-sia,” she pronounced and I grinned, but not too much.
“I have somewhere nice for you, princess,” I answered and nodded to Mr Lyon Gates.
This went better thOWEN WINTERS
Mornings were usually the same routine for me, clean, cook, work… but today seemed especially different, in a good way.
Amy was somewhere around the house drafting another terrible email (she wouldn't find out how terrible they were from me) to the house of Rodriguez, while I dressed ready for another work. My plan about the ammunition sold to the Russians worked well except they wanted a negotiation this time around.
Father would've gone for the so called negotiation, but he was enjoying his old age in one country I still didn't get the name. I wore a blue Armani suit and stared at my reflection in the mirror for what looked like five minutes. I did my hair in short curls, and bit my lips.
Just as I turned to leave, Amy barged into the room, her face red from fury.
Another rejection. I thought, rubbing my fingers together and waiting for her to lash out, but she didn't. Instead she slumped on the bed and let out an exasperated sigh.
“She rejected it. What the fuck is wrong with her? Or maybe-” she sat up, and glanced at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Maybe the house of Xavier is not well known in Paris. But then again she was a former Xavier,” she pouted.
I chuckled and walked over to her. Holding her chin, I pressed a kiss on her lips. “Don't worry, you should start a plan B since the emails aren't working, and don't forget to not stress yourself. You're pregnant,” I reassured her before kissing her lips again.
“I might come home late, I have this fucked up negotiations with the bratvas…”
“The Russians?” She asked interrupting me, but I didn't mind. “Yes. But I'll be coming with Mr Lyon Gates, the one I'm marrying his daughter.” I shouldn't have said that so bluntly because she became sullen. Probably the realization hit her… the realization I hadn't even thought of.
“Pumpkin…”
“It's fine, it's inevitable anyway,” she replied, and stood to leave.
“Wish me luck before I go, those guys are really something else,” I said making a poor attempt at a cheerful joke, but she laughed anyway.
Amy hugged me, her arm around my neck, she stood on her toes and planted a kiss on my cheeks. “Be safe.” I nodded as she walked out.
I sat lazily on the bed, the thought of my business marriage with the Gates hadn't crossed my mind, I shut my eyes for a while before I opened them. My phone rang reminding me it was time to leave for work.
I sighed — a heavy sigh.
“You could've informed me before doing anything rash, Mr Winters,” Mr Lyon Gates said as we walked side by side, hands in our pockets. The man looked older as wrinkles decorated his forehead, he had bags under his eyes coupled with dark circles.
“I apologize for causing you much worry, Mr Gates, but I am the heir to the house of the Winters and I thought about my decision before acting on it, so, I'm not sorry about my so called rash decisions, but I apologize for not informing you about it,” I replied, my face stoney as we suddenly stopped walking.
The old man shrugged, hands out of his pockets. “The Russians like making an entrance, so you'll have to be patient,” he informed me and I rolled my eyes.
Suddenly, a trail of cars came lined up in a square form as though the president were making an entrance.
He must be the one at the front.
I thought hissing with disgust, but my face was straight. Nothing was far worse than a bad negotiation or impression with the Russians.
Just then, the red car in the third line of cars opened the butterfly door.
It was the only red one amongst black ones so it was probably the boss who sat in it.
“So much for a magnificent entrance,” I scoffed, my patience wearing out.
A pair of heels landed on the ground as the boss appeared.
A lady?
Her hair was blonde, and her face, the smoothness of ivory. Her well adorned neck told her off, and her steps were… infuriating!
Why the fuck did the wind decide to come now?
“I must have kept you waiting, no?” She said, batting her lashes. I smirked in annoyance, but still kept that straight face.
“It's fine…”
“My lady. Call me my lady, I feel like I'll like it with your deep voice,” she answered winking at me.
Was she flirting with me?
I grinned, this time it was evident. “I'm Owen Winters and since we're being informal here call me Owen, or anything you like.” This was going well and I hoped it'd last longer.
“I'll call you caramel, it's sweet and I guess you are too…”
No, she wasn't flirting with me. She was dangerous.
I cleared my throat and focused on the reason we came here to discuss the negotiation. “We refused to sell you that much ammunition, and that created a lot of fuzz, but we decided to propose something more, Mr Gates would brief you on that,” I said and glanced at him from the side, so he could speak.
The lady glared intensely at me, then laughed. “I want you to speak, your voice does a lot of things to me, so-” she backflipped and stopped in front of me, our faces touching. She pressed a gun at my temple.
Be calm.
“I want you to speak sweet nothings to me till you drop dead and in your own pool of blood,” she threatened, her voice still playful as ever.
“I'm not completely ending our trade since we are useful to each other. I'll only give you more ammunition if first, you increase the money and second, you stop harassing my men at the casino in Russia,” I said. She pressed the gun harder into my head until the gun created an injury and a drop of blood slid down to my neck.
“Don't act rashly, this injury can cause a serious war between us and well let's say there won't be any losers. If that's what you want, then shoot,” it was my turn to threaten, but my tone sounded a lot more serious in contrast to hers.
She dropped her hands to the side and gazed into my eyes.
“You're so sweet, Owen, we have a lot to gain working together,” she said and kissed my cheeks.
Only Amy can do that!
But I did nothing.
“I should agree to your proposal, but I want something else apart from the ammunition since we're increasing the price.”
“What do you want?” I asked eager to know.
She smiled brightly, “let's have a drink or two together! I just turned eighteen today and I'll love Paris food,” she screamed cheerfully and yes, there were no doubts that she was a kid — a dangerous kid.
Why did she come instead of her father?
I asked myself, but it seemed easier with her spearheading the whole transaction.
“Sure, but you have to tell me your name first.”
“Oh it's Ana-sta-sia,” she pronounced and I grinned, but not too much.
“I have somewhere nice for you, princess,” I answered and nodded to Mr Lyon Gates.
This went better than I thought, unlike the Russians my father dealt with before.
I'll be home earlier than expected, pumpkin.
an I thought, unlike the Russians my father dealt with before.
I'll be home earlier than expected, pumpkin.